Harold

Harold awoke from his long nap when none of the other soldiers were up. He laid in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. He thought of his past, his horrific past that always seemed to punch him in the face in the worst situations. He reached into his pocket and grabbed Lucky, the knife he had carved out of his own broken bone. It was as sharp as a pin-point, and as long as pencil. He frowned at all the things that happened in the past with Lucky. One time, an American soldier almost threw it over a cliff, so he had to plunge into the canyon and grab it. Fortunately, he stopped himself from falling to his death. Another time, his second wife was so cross with him that she grabbed Lucky and stabbed Harold.

Harold put Lucky back into his pocket and sighed. Oh the stories he could tell about his misadventures. He could write a book five hundred pages long about them. But he didn't have the time. He had to fight for his country. It was a shame that he had to battle in a different country, apart from his lovely wife, Tannis. But he needed to defend his country...even if it meant dieing.

Rudolf Dussel

Rudolf awoke in with the rain pouring down. The small base was at the Russian front line. He walked over to the Barracks of his squad, he fired a shot. The men ran out to their young Squad leader

"Very good, men, very good." he said as he paced down the line of men. He was secretly proud of his squad, even though most of them were fresh off the line. His helmet glistened with fresh rain. He heard Stuka and BF-109s fly overhead.

"Men, Operation Odessa is in place, the battle of Minsk will commence after a airstrike. Get your rest, check your weapons, pray to god. Then, we will get into trucks, and head to the front line."